For the wealth of pathless forests,
Whereon no ax may fall;

For the winds that haunt the branches;
For the young bird's timid call;
For the red leaves dropped like rubies
Upon the dark green sod;

For the waving of the forest,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the sound of water gushing
In bubbling beads of light;
For the fleets of snow-white lilies
Firm anchored out of sight;
For the reeds among the eddies;
The crystal on the clod;

For the flowing of the rivers,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the rosebud's break of beauty

Along the toiler's way;

For the violet's eye that opens

To bless the new-born day;

N

For the bare twigs that in summer
Bloom like the prophet's rod;

For the blossoming of flowers,
I thank Thee, O my. God!

For the lifting up of mountains,
In brightness and in dread;
For the peaks where snow and sunshine
Alone have dared to tread;
For the dark of silent gorges,

Whence mighty cedars nod;
For the majesty of mountains,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the splendor of the sunsets,
Vast mirrored on the sea;

For the gold-fringed clouds that curtain
Heaven's inner mystery;

For the molten bars of twilight,

Where thought leans glad, yet awed;

For the glory of the sunsets,

I thank Thee, O my God!

For the earth and all its beauty;
The sky and all its light;
For the dim and soothing shadows,
That rest the dazzled sight;

For unfading fields and prairies,
Where sense in vain hath trod;
For the world's exhaustless beauty,
I thank Thee, O my God.

For an eye of inward seeing;
A soul to know and love;

For these common aspirations

That our high heirship prove;
For the hearts that bless each other
Beneath Thy smile, Thy rod;

For the amaranth saved from Eden,
I thank Thee, O my God!

For the hidden scroll, o'erwritten

With one dear name adored;
For the heavenly in the human,
The spirit in the Word;

For the tokens of Thy presence

Within, above, abroad;

For Thine own great gift of Being,
I thank Thee, O my God!

LUCY LARCOM.

Notes.-Lucy Larcom is a native of Massachusetts.

She has

been for many years a popular contributor to periodical literature. Break of beauty means the unfolding of the beautiful petals of the rose.

Elocution.

Each stanza of the poem is an elocutionary climax. An increase of force is given to each line, and the refrain at the close of every stanza should be read slowly, forcibly, and with a full, clear tone of voice.

Language. — In each stanza of the poem, there is only one sentence of which the subject is "I" and the predicate "thank” and its modifiers. The first stanza is a complex sentence and the second stanza a simple sentence.

What kinds of sentences are the third and fourth stanzas?

59. THE "ARIEL" AMONG THE SHOALS.

per vād'ed, overspread.

PART I.

pro dig'iqŭs, (dĭd'jús), wonder-
ful.

ĕvo lū'tion, movement.
eŎm' pli eāt ed, having parts
difficult to understand.
monotonous, unvaried; dull.

ǎp'a thy, unconcerned. coun'ter månd', oppose; or. der differently.

ob trud'ed, thrust.

păr'a lýzed, deprived of motion.
ĕx'tri eāte, free; relieve.
pre çiş'ion (sizhun), exactness.

The last rope was coiled and deposited in its proper place by the seamen, and for several minutes the stillness of death pervaded the crowded

decks. It was evident to every one that the ship was dashing at a prodigious rate through the waves; and as she was approaching with such velocity the quarter of the bay where the shoals and dangers were known to be situated, nothing but the habit of the most exact discipline could suppress the uneasiness of the officers and men within their own bosoms. At length the voice of Captain Munson was heard calling to the pilot.

"Shall I send a hand into the chains, Mr. Gray," he said, "and try our water?"

"Tack your ship, sir; tack your ship; I would see how she works before we reach the point where she must behave well, or we perish."

Griffith gazed after him in wonder, while the pilot slowly paced the quarter-deck, and then, rousing from his trance, gave forth the cheering order that called every man to his station to perform the desired evolution. The confident assurance which the young officer had given to the pilot respecting the quality of his vessel, and his own ability to manage her, were fully realized by the result.

The helm was no sooner put alee," than the huge ship bore up gallantly against the wind, and, dashing directly through the waves, threw the foam high into the air as she looked boldly into the very eye of the wind, and then, yielding gracefully to its power, she fell off on the other tack with her head pointed from those dangerous shoals that she had so recently approached with such terrifying velocity.

The heavy yards swung round as if they had been vanes to indicate the currents of the air, and, in a few moments, the frigate again moved with

stately progress through the water, leaving the rocks and shoals behind her on one side of the bay, but advancing toward those that offered equal danger on the other.

During this time the sea was becoming more agitated, and the violence of the wind was gradually increasing. The latter no longer whistled among the cordage of the vessel, but it seemed to howl surlily as it passed the complicated machinery that the frigate obtruded in its path. An endless succession of white surges rose above the heavy billows, and the very air was glittering with the light that was disengaged from ocean and

sparkled in her wake.

The ship yielded every moment more and more before the storm, and, in less than half an hour from the time that she had lifted her anchor, she was driven along with tremendous fury by the full power of a gale of wind. Still the hardy and experienced mariners who directed her movements held her to the course that was necessary to their preservation, and still Griffith gave forth, when directed by their unknown pilot, those orders that turned her in the narrow channel where safety was alone to be found.

So far the performance of his duty seemed easy to the stranger, and he gave the required directions in those still, calm tones that formed so remarkable a contrast to the responsibility of his situation. But when the land was becoming dim, in distance as well as in darkness, and the agitated sea was only to be discovered as it swept by them in foam, he broke in upon the monotonous roaring of the tempest, with the sounds of his voice, seem